A Doorway to Eternity
by mabelreid
Summary: Set at the end of season eight. Reid moves into a temporary residence while waiting for his new apartment to be readied. He's not alone, and soon a force outside of time will offer him a choice that will change everything.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: see my profile.**_

 _ **A/n this is my Halloween offering for this year. It is set at the end of season eight. Please enjoy.**_

Morgan led Reid into the living area of the recently completed home on Cherry Blossom Avenue. The huge picture window looked out onto the street and framed the gorgeous sunset to the west. Plum merged into misty blue which melded into light pink and gold at the edge of the sky. The sun had dropped below the horizon, and everything blended in the spring twilight.

"Nice view," Spencer said as he dropped his messenger bag on the couch.

"Yeah, it's a great neighborhood."

Reid looked around the room. "I can't thank you enough for arranging this for me."

Morgan clapped a hand on his shoulder. "It's no problem, kid."

"You're sure your friend's okay with it."

Morgan rolled his eyes and sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you, it's cool. Mark needs someone to house sit for a week until he gets back from Europe and can get this place on the market."

"He did a nice job staging it for his open house," Reid commented. "The furniture and the paint shows off this room with maximum effect. Did you know that you raise your chances of selling a home by fifty-three percent if you stage it?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Morgan said.

"Right, you do this all the time."

They stood together for a moment, and Reid's thoughts began to turn to where he'd store his week's worth of books from the library.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. I know you want to set up your temporary library." Morgan said as if reading his mind. "The power's on, and the ladies stocked your fridge. Mark said feel free to make yourself at home."

"Thanks, Derek."

"I'm just glad you're only a couple of blocks away, where I can keep an eye on you."

It was Reid's turn to roll his eyes. "I can take care of myself."

Morgan grinned and shook his head. "Right, that's why you can't stay out of trouble for five minutes at a time."

"You exaggerate," Spencer replied indignantly. "We've been talking for at least five minutes, and nothing _remotely_ resembling trouble has happened."

Morgan smirked at him. "We'll wait and see."

"Yes, we will."

Morgan took another look around the room. "Alright, pretty boy, I'm outta here. I'll leave you to enjoy your new place. Don't do anything _I_ wouldn't do."

Reid's eyebrows went up, and when he opened his mouth, Morgan covered it with his right hand. "Don't say it!"

Reid shook his head. "You don't know what I was going to say."

Morgan sighed. "I think I know you well enough to predict the smart remark you were about to make."

"I was going to say thanks again."

Morgan narrowed his eyes at the younger man. "Oh?"

"No," Reid said through a wide smile.

"One of these days."

"You keep saying that and yet, you never follow through."

Morgan shook his head. "I'm biding my time."

They laughed together, and it was like a weight lifting off Reid's shoulders. It seemed like the three months since Maeve's death had flown by and dragged by at the same time, but now that he had a new apartment, he thought he might find the strength to get on with his life. It felt good to be able to laugh with Morgan once more.

After his friend had left the house, Reid sat on the couch and stared out the window at the last of the fading sunset. It was getting dark, but he didn't notice until something in the house creaked, and he jumped. He laughed nervously and forced himself to breathe normally and let his heart rate return to normal.

"It's a new house," he reminded himself in a low voice. "The foundation's settling, nothing more than that."

Still, he rose, took out his work cell and turned it on to let the screen glow, guide him to the nearest light fixture. With the warm, golden glow illuminating the living room, he went to the big window and shut the wood slat blinds. It closed out the view of the street and other homes, but somehow it made him feel like the inside of a cocoon. He decided to get one of the books he'd brought and read for a while.

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He didn't know what time it was when he woke to realize he'd fallen asleep on the cheap but surprisingly comfortable sofa. The overhead light burned his eyes and made him squint. He blinked rapidly, sat and tried to focus on something so that he could find his way to the upstairs master bedroom. Suddenly, the house seemed too quiet for his liking. He couldn't hear anything on the street, either. The hair began to stand up on the back of his neck as the feeling of being watched crawled over his spine.

" _Spencer."_

The voice he heard was low, it was more like the dream of a whisper, but he jolted up and spun in a circle, trying to look everywhere at once. "Who's there?" He said in a quavering voice.

His phone rang, and he let out a terrified scream, then laughed like a disturbed mental patient in the criminally insane ward at the local asylum.

"Reid," he said answered, a bit hysterically.

"Babycakes. You okay?"

He closed his eyes and put the finger of one hand to the bridge of his nose. Garcia. She could read him like a book from twenty miles away and headed in the opposite direction. He didn't need her prying into his fears.

"Yes," he squeaked and cursed his inability to control his voice. "I'm fine."

"Then why are you squeaking and why did you answer the phone as if you'd just seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," he lied and dropped back onto the sofa. "I fell asleep on the couch, and your phone call startled me."

"Garcia, are you there?" He found himself inquiring when she went quiet.

"Yeah, I'm here, but I don't believe you."

"I'm _fine_ ," he said with more confidence because her voice and her concern for him chased away his fears.

"Are you sure, because I can keep you company? We could have a mini Doctor Who marathon and eat junk food."

"As appealing as that is, isn't it too late?"

"No, gorgeous gray matter. It's only nine pm on a Saturday night."

"Don't you have plans," he attempted distraction.

"No, and don't try to distract me. I'm worried about you, Spencer."

The use of his first name and her serious tone had him sitting up straight. "I truly am fine, Garcia. I was a little freaked out being alone in a new place, but this move is a _good_ thing. It helps me not to think about her." His voice cracked a bit.

"Oh, babycakes, I'm so sorry I brought up sad memories."

"You didn't," he assured her after clearing his throat. "I have to learn to let her go. I'll never stop loving her, but I have to get on with my life. I can't live with the pain anymore."

"I wish I were there to give you a huge hug," Garcia said, and there were tears in her voice.

"I know, and I'm grateful you're my friend. Why don't we wait and have the Doctor Who marathon after I move into my permanent place? Then we can make a mess and not worry about someone else's home?

"Good idea," she said, and he could hear the happiness return to her voice.

"It was your idea, so it is a good one," he said.

"Don't think flattery will get you anywhere," she shot back. "I'm going to worry about you until you move into your place."

"You don't have to that. I like it here."

"I'm not sure I believe you, but I'll leave it alone for now.

They talked for another fifteen minutes about inconsequential things. He was happy when she finally said goodnight. He adored her as one of his best friends, but she was too perceptive for his good. He didn't need her showing up on his doorstep and finding out from looking at him that he was far from okay.

"I miss you _so_ much," he said to the empty room and for a moment wished that he could hear the voice call his name again because it might be her.

He stood up and listened with all his being, but heard only silence in the house. It was the type of quiet that pressed on the eardrums like a living thing. He shook his head and shut off the light. He'd go up to his bedroom, take a shower and go to bed early for a change.

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The hot shower had helped to relax him, but he woke again at 3:38 am after six hours of restless sleep. He looked around the room with dark adapted eyes and sighed. He needed a bathroom visit, and his stomach rumbled. Maybe some of the treats Rossi, JJ, and Garcia had sent with Morgan to add to his food stores might prove interesting.

He put on his slippers and stood in the darkness that was broken only by dim light entering around the edges of the curtains at the window to his left. He flipped on the light, and once again had to wait for his eyes to adapt. At least, this time, he didn't hear a voice calling to him and felt a disappointment so large in his chest, it physically hurt.

"Why do you want to hear voices in a strange house," he asked himself irritably.

 _Because it might be her!_

He shook his head and resolutely headed to the bathroom and then down the stairs to the kitchen. He entered using on the light from the hallway to guide him to the fridge. Inside, he located a sandwich JJ had made for him, wrapped in wax paper. It was supposed to be for his lunch the next day, but he decided to eat it with a glass of the milk that Garcia had insisted he needed to stay healthy. He'd save coffee for the morning.

He gathered up the sandwich on a paper plate and poured out a glass of milk. He took his snack out of the kitchen, and passed without noticing, a door in the wall that hadn't been there eight hours ago.

When the light from the hallway blinked out, the new door's knob turned slowly, and the door drifted open to spill brilliant white light into the kitchen. The door stood open as if waiting for something but slowly swung closed with a click that barely echoed into the room. The house seemed to release a breath it held. The foundation groaned, but this time, no one noticed.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/n here is the next chapter. Thank you all for your reviews and for adding this story to your alerts and favorites. Thank you to my ever faithful beta, REIDFANATIC. Now on to the next chapter**_.

Reid descended the stairs slowly. Trying to sleep after his early morning snack had proved impossible. He'd lain in the unfamiliar bed and thought only of the space at his side. It never used to bother him to sleep alone, until he'd met Maeve.

He sighed and yawned as his feet hit the first floor. He stopped and looked around at the living area in the low light of day filtered through the blinds over the windows. He thought about raising the wooden slats to allow the full light of the day, then decided to make coffee.

Several minutes later, the coffee maker JJ had bought him for his last birthday, percolated along merrily as he stood with his back to the counter. He surveyed the kitchen with sleep blurred eyes that lacked contacts or glasses. The lack of visual aids had to be the reason why he thought he saw a second door next to the pantry he'd seen during Morgan's tour. In fact, the extra door couldn't be there because the proportions of the kitchen didn't have the dimensions to include another storage space in that wall. His engineer's training told him it was so, but nonetheless, he could see another door.

"You're dreaming."

He rubbed the last of his sleep from his eyes and blinked. The door was gone. He let out a slow breath as chills ran up and down his arms to his back and down his spine. If he'd begun to hallucinate – no, he refused to let his brain go there. It _had_ to be a symptom of grief. His mind wanted him to consider the path not taken; that's all.

 _What path?_

He didn't know why he'd just thought of taking a different road. Time and space are linear. There's no going back or around a chosen road. As much as he wanted to change the outcome of his life, it was impossible.

He sighed again and poured out his first cup of coffee. He stood and stared at the spot where the door appeared and waited. The second door didn't reappear, and he felt a conflicting sense of relief and disappointment.

"Spencer!"

He blinked and nearly dropped his coffee. It was the same, voice, but this time, it had an added note of sorrowful urgency.

"No!" He said resolutely. "I'm _not_ hearing or seeing what's not there."

Denial burst over his mind, denial that he'd begun to experience the first symptoms of his mother's disease. His headaches were gone. Didn't that mean something? It was just stress. It didn't make him mentally ill. He put down his coffee cup and strode out of the kitchen. He'd get ready for work and forget about possible hallucinations.

The empty main floor of the house continued to exist in silence. No sound accompanied the materialization of a new door in the kitchen. It reappeared in the same place and as before drifted open as if gently pushed from the other side. White light, brighter than noon sunlight on virgin snow spilled out to mix with ordinary sunlight. As before, the light waited, then the door shut with a low clicking noise and disappeared.

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"Hey, Spence." JJ greeted when he entered the bullpen.

"Hi," he said briefly and distractedly.

She frowned and went to lean on his desk as he sat. "You okay? You look exhausted."

"I'm in possession of all my faculties," he snapped without warning.

JJ barely resisted jerking back in surprise. "I didn't say you're not, Spence."

"Don't wanna talk about it."

He grabbed his coffee cup and hurried in the direction of the break room. JJ took in the huge cup he'd carried in from Starbucks. Had he just forgotten that he had a cup of the good stuff to have an excuse to walk away from her?

She began to follow him to the break room, then stopped and went back to her desk. Alex entered the bullpen with her bag on one shoulder and a bright smile. "Hi, JJ."

"Hey, Alex."

Alex narrowed her eyes as she left her bag on her desk. "Everything alright."

"I think that – "

She stopped when Reid reentered the bullpen. He glanced at her then made a beeline for his desk and pulled a file from his inbox. He went to work on it as though nothing else mattered in the universe.

"Hey, Spencer," Alex greeted.

He looked up, waved at her then stuck his face back in the file.

Alex raised her eyebrows and JJ shook her head. If he wanted to pout, she wouldn't pull Alex into the middle of their argument. "So," she said with forced brightness. "How was your weekend?"

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Two days later, the jet winged it's way east toward Quantico. It was just after noon and the mid-day sun turned the sky almost white. Clouds the color of new cotton floated beneath the fuselage and shadows raced them home. Reid lay on the couch, trying to pretend that he slept, but it was no use. He couldn't stop thinking about the door he'd hallucinated and the voice he'd heard coming from nowhere. He rubbed at his eyes and turned over to face JJ who sat across the aisle. Their eyes met and held for long seconds.

"Spence," she said softly. "I wanted to say I'm sorry if I overstepped the other day."

He let out a short laugh. "You didn't overstep, JJ. You were concerned, and I brushed you off."

"You don't have to tell me."

She gave him a crooked little smile that made him sit up and talk when he wanted to sleep. "I'm having a tough time with the move and everything."

She pulled a hand through her hair and nodded. "What happened to you was – I can't think of a word strong enough." She raised her hands and let them fall to her lap. "If anything happened to Will or Henry, I don't know if I could survive it."

There was something in her eyes at that moment that made him forget his fears. He's seen it several times since she returned from her assignment with the DOD, but she never spoke of the cause. Then the shadow in her eyes retreated, and she smiled at him. "I think you're doing the right thing, moving. Even though Maeve never spent time there, I think her ghost – "

"What did you say?" He interrupted sharply.

"I _said_ I think her presence is there, nonetheless." JJ gave him a strange look.

"Oh, I guess the move and the case are catching up with me. I'm tired. I didn't mean to snap at you."

She studied him for so long he almost squirmed, but managed to stay still so that she didn't stumble onto his true concern. "You know I'm here for you if you need me."

He worked up a smile. "Yeah, I know you are, and I appreciate it."

She grinned back at him. "Just try to stay out of trouble."

"Morgan said the same thing," He complained, and she laughed.

"He knows you too well."

"He likes to meddle."

"Who likes to meddle?" said Morgan as he came up the aisle from the bathroom.

"You," said JJ.

Morgan took the seat across from JJ and shot her his best "who me," grin. "I do not meddle, blondie."

"Except when someone's having nightmares," Reid pointed out.

"Or, if Garcia's having trouble with Kevin," JJ put in.

"Alright, you two. It feels like pick on Derek Morgan Day."

"It is," Reid and JJ said in unison, and then they laughed.

"Keep it up," Morgan warned.

"Or you'll, what?" JJ wanted to know.

He grinned at her. "Trust me; you don't want to know."

" _Oh_ , I'm scared."

They lapsed into comfortable silence. Morgan put on his headphones. JJ left to get some Cheetos and Reid found himself lying down and drifting off into a deep sleep. He dreamed of Maeve, and they danced again to "Sleepwalk." He didn't notice or feel the tear that slid slowly down his cheek to wet the fabric of the bench beneath his face.

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Even though he'd only spent a couple of days in his temporary accommodations, it still felt like home. He wondered as he left his bag just inside the door of the bedroom, why he no longer felt afraid of seeing the door in the kitchen and hearing the whisper of his name. In fact, he stood at the top of the stairs and listened, half eagerly and half with a fear that if the whisper returned he'd recognize the source.

He heaved out a frustrated sigh when again, heavy silence hung over the house. He decided to read some of the books he'd brought and then maybe order in from his favorite Indian restaurant. The thought made him smile as he hurried down the stairs. A good chicken curry was just thing to brighten his mood after the blood and destruction of their last case.

Afternoon shadows lay across the hardwood floor of the living room when he entered. The sun was almost directly in his face, so he closed the blinds and began to read in the soft light that sifted through the slats. A new book was just the thing to distract him, and he went into "the zone," as Morgan called it when he concentrated so heavily on his reading he ceased to notice the world around him.

In the kitchen, the new door appeared in the wall and opened on silent hinges. The diamond-bright light spilled into the late afternoon gloom of the north facing the room. A low whispering voice said "Spencer," but this time, he didn't hear it. The door waited for almost half an hour, then slowly swung closed again and disappeared.

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Reid dropped his third book on the stack near the coffee table and stood up to stretch. His stomach rumbled, and he decided to find his cell phone and call for takeout. He supposed it might be a bit pathetic that he had The Indian Pearl on speed dial. Maybe he should broaden his dietary experiences a bit. He shook his head and went to get his go bag. He'd expand his food horizons another day.

He'd gone halfway up the stairs to his bedroom when he the hair on the back of his neck and the sensation of being watched enveloped him like a blast of freezing air. He shivered and clutched at the handrail so tightly, his right hand cramped.

"Spencer," said the same whisper.

He jumped and nearly tumbled backward down the stairs. The voice called to him again, and this time, it sounded distinctly playful. Then, the voice giggled like a small child. It was a joyful sound, but it shook him down to his toes.

"Who's there?"

He squeaked, then cleared his throat. He remembered that his gun sat on the entry way table, too far away to grab at the spur of the moment. The voice giggled again, and he turned around.

"I'm a federal agent, and I'm armed." He called out with as much authority as he could muster.

His training finally kicked in. The door and the voice were his imagination, but the laugh of the child sounded real, like a kid playing a joke. He'd go downstairs and find the kids. If he flashed his badge, maybe the child or children would show him respect. Then he laughed, and it was like giggling in a graveyard. Another child's giggle answered his laugh.

"Hey, this house is occupied. Come out now!"

Despite that he nearly shouted this warning, the house went silent. The presence he'd felt on the back of his neck increased to the point he whipped around to look back up the stairs. Of course, the stairway was empty behind him, but someone was watching him. He'd stake his life on it.

He went back down the stairs, toward the sound of laughter. At the corner where the stairs met the hallway, he went right to the living area. He ignored his gun and grabbed his badge. He didn't want to shoot a neighborhood kid playing a joke. The living area was empty as well as the hall. He went to the front door and looked outside into the late afternoon air. Two cars passed, and he saw a couple of kids playing on the lawn at the house across the street. He shut the door and turned around to look back in the direction of the kitchen. The back of the neck feeling was gone, and the house was silent.

He couldn't settle down, though, until he checked the rest of the house. Somehow, one of the neighborhood kids had found a way to get inside a locked house.

"Or, you forgot to lock the door."

He decided to stop talking to himself and check the kitchen. Then, he'd decide what to do next. Deciding what to do next didn't take long because the phantom door of his waking hallucination slowly emerged from the blank space on the wall. He didn't have time to wonder about his mental state because the doorknob turned and the door drifted open to reveal a white light so bright it should've blinded him, but somehow he could see. He automatically stepped back as if from a bomb.

"Stay," said the same dreamy voice.

"Who are you?"

"Come."

" _No."_

His feet did not obey his brain. Instead, they took him toward the door as if his will submerged beneath a blanket of unconcern. His badge dropped from numb fingers, and he stopped thinking about whether he'd begun the descent into mental illness. He stepped across the threshold into the light, and the door swung closed behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Reid blinked as the brilliant white light faded into a perfect spring day. The sky overhead was flawlessly blue. Flowers of all colors had burst from the rich dark earth. Emerald green grass grew under his feet as he walked away from the door. He breathed in the scent of green things growing and the perfume of new flowers. Despite not knowing what or where he might be a feeling of absolute calm sent warmth flooding through his body.

The same giggle he'd heard in his temporary home echoed to his right. He turned and saw a children's playground. One figure played on a swing that faced away from him so that he could only see the back of what looked like a child of about five year's old

"You can come closer, Spencer Reid. I won't bite."

He realized as he drew up alongside the child, and from the tone of the voice that it _was_ a little girl. She had long, wavy, golden brown hair falling over her shoulders. She wore what looked like a pale blue dress in the style of a princess costume that was popular at Halloween. She turned to him, and he was stunned at her angelic beauty. She had large, hazel-brown eyes, high cheek bones, a sculpted nose, and full mouth. She smiled at him, and he automatically grinned back.

"Who are you?"

"Would you like to play on the swings with me?"

Her sweet, musical voice made him shiver but in a good way. There was something familiar about her. He thought he'd seen her somewhere, but he couldn't figure out where or when.

"You're a stubborn man, Spencer Reid."

She spoke as if she were years older than her physical appearance. There was something in her eyes and the way they held his gaze that suggested maturity instead of youth. He honestly didn't know what to say or how to react to this insane situation.

The girl reached out and touched his hand. "You do not have schizophrenia," she assured him. "You're simply outside of your known reality."

"I don't understand, and I'm not sure I want to."

She pushed her feet into the ground and swung up into the air and back again. "You're here because you wished for it."

He sat on the curved seat of the swing next to her and watched as she swung bag and forth. He hadn't wished for a door to appear out of nowhere and whisk him away to some place outside his experience.

"I didn't wish for this," he said resolutely.

"You of all people should know that your deepest desires can manifest into your private reality."

"Are you trying to be inscrutable?"

"I am just what I am."

"What are you?"

She stopped her forward momentum by dragging her white shoes on the ground. "What I am isn't important. Who _you_ are and what _you_ want is the reason I am."

"I don't understand," he said irritably. "What are you trying to say?"

"You're at the road not taken."

He shook his head. "Can you please be clear?"

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference."

"You're quoting Robert Frost. It's – "

"One of your favorite poems," interjected the girl.

"Yes, but not for the reasons you think."

"Robert Frost was chagrined when people made so much out of the poem. He intended the poem to be a sort of gentle mocking of his friend Edward Thomas, who had shown much indecision in choosing a path during their many walks together."

"That's right," Reid answered faintly. "People misinterpret the poem as evidence of the benefit of making your choices and not following along with the consensus. In actuality, he meant is as a comment on indecision and finding meaning in decisions that mean little in the grand scheme of life."

"In this case, you are literally at a crossroad, Spencer. I'm here to offer you a choice."

"What choice can you offer me," Reid asked as his heart began to race with a certain deep-held desire.

"You know what the choice is."

"You want to offer me the chance to have Maeve back. Well, I don't-"

"The choice is a real one," said the little girl. "You can decide to return to your life as it is and live it out with the destiny intended for you or you can go back with the knowledge of how to stop Maeve's murder and take the path not trodden with her."

"I can't just decide to change destiny if there is such a thing."

"You know there is." She said firmly. "You've known it since the day you joined the FBI."

"How _do_ you know what's in my heart. You don't know me!"

She didn't flinch away from the anger in his voice. "I've been watching you all your life, Spencer. I know you better than you know yourself."

"What are you?" He demanded. "Tell me!"

"I'm not a hallucination or a dream."

He rolled his hand is if to spur her on to the truth he knew but needed to hear.

"I'm not an apparition, angel or an alien being," she continued. "Think of me as a guide."

"I'm not sure I want you to lead me," he said truthfully.

She shoved off with her feet again and began to swing back and forth. Her hair lifted and fell over her shoulders, and she laughed like an innocent child. "Nevertheless, you must make your decision. Time is fluid and infinite, but your decision affects everyone you love. Consider carefully, Spencer Reid, but not for long."

"I don't have to think about it. I know what I want."

She stopped kicking her legs back and forth and let her momentum drop. The swing had come to a complete stop before she turned to him. "Be warned. Returning that which was taken with such violence requires a price. You _must_ be willing to pay it."

"What is the price?"

She simply smiled and pushed off the hard packed dirt under her feet. "The price isn't for me to decide or reveal. My task is to offer you the choice and warn of the cost."

"If you're some all-powerful being, _why_ can't you bring it about without consequences?"

"I'm not the one who will grant your wish."

"Then I want to talk to the one who will."

She smiled at him as she swung away from him. "I'm afraid that's not possible, Spencer. You must have faith in what your heart tells you, not it what you see or hear."

"I don't believe in what I can't see with my eyes."

"That's not true. You believe in trust, and in love."

"What did love get me?" Spencer shot back harshly. "My love for Maeve and my trust in my team didn't save her life. Only _fools_ have faith."

"Then you don't need me." She stopped the swing and stood up. "Perhaps it's time for me to leave you."

"No!" He almost shouted. "You brought me to this place to offer me a choice. I've made my decision. I want Maeve back, and I don't care about the cost."

"It will be as you wish."

She reached out her hand and touched his shoulder. He blinked and found he lay on the couch in his old apartment. He gasped out a breath and felt the remnants of tears on his face. It had to be a dream. He sat up and realized that he wasn't in the temporary house. He rubbed a hand over his face and stood. He looked around and tried to place the day in his mind. The sun blazed low in the east window, which told him it was early. He sighed and tried to remember falling asleep, but he couldn't bring it to the front of his memory.

He looked up at the clock on his wall and saw that it was eight ten am. His alarm hadn't woken him so he thought it might be the weekend. If it was the weekend – his memory suddenly came back like a gunshot to his brain. It was Sunday. In fact, it was _that_ Sunday. He hurried to his bedroom and grabbed his cell phone.

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He sat on the passenger side of the SUV and watched as Hotch, Morgan and two uniformed officers entered Maeve's apartment building. He'd wanted to go with them, but Hotch had convinced him to stay back.

" _If you're right, and I believe you are," Hotch had said. "This Dianne knows who you are. You'll only antagonize the situation."_

He knew that Hotch was right, but he still wished he could join them. Reid's knee bounced up and down as he watched the door that faced the street. It would be okay. His life was back on track.

Ten minutes later, the uniformed officers came out with Dianne between them in handcuffs. He watched them put her in the back of the car, and the feeling of relief that washed over him was so great he felt faint. Morgan came out of the building at a jog. He hurried across the street to the truck and around to Reid.

"Hey," he said as Reid opened the door. "She's alright. We got her just in time. She's got a nice size lump on her head and some bumps and bruises, but she'll be okay."

"I need to see her."

"I know you do, kid."

Reid ran across the street just as Hotch and Maeve came out of the building. He saw her standing there looking more beautiful than he remembered from his old memories of that terrible day. She looked at him, and for her, it was the first time she'd seen him. He saw in her eyes the love that he'd always heard in her voice and his heart skipped a beat. He didn't care who was there, or who watched. He gathered her up in his arms and kissed her until he couldn't catch his breath.

"Hi," he said when he pulled back.

"Hi," she said, and her face was rosy pink.

"You're alive." He stated the obvious.

"You saved me. How did you know?"

"It's a long story. You should get checked at the hospital, and we'll talk.

He didn't want to let her out of his sight, but he didn't like the bruise on her forehead. She turned back to him when the medics helped her into the ambulance. She looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn't make her words connect to her mouth. He understood the feeling. "I love you," he blurted out.

She smiled and tears filled her eyes. "I love you, too."

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He lay on his couch, but this time, he wasn't alone. Maeve was there with him, in his arms and listening as he told her about how he saved her from Dianne.

"I don't know if I believe it," he was saying. "I know I remember another day like this. At this time, I was here alone, in shock and so overwhelmed with grief, I wanted to die. Now, it's that same time, and you're here. You're alive, Dianne's in custody and I'm so happy I can't contain it. How do I reconcile those memories?"

"I wish I had an answer," Maeve said as he stroked her hair with his long, gentle fingers. "I believe in science, in the process of proving or disproving a premise, but this is out of my depth."

"I can't believe you just accept my story. You should think I'm crazy, especially with my mother's history."

"I believe in you because you love me. I know it's not logical, but I trust you. I didn't need to see you know it. I've heard it in your voice for months. I _have_ to trust you."

"You're amazing," he looked at her as she sat up and took his face in her hands. "I don't deserve you."

"No, I don't deserve you, Spencer Reid. You did an amazing thing for me. You gave me back my life."

She kissed him, and he forgot about his former life without her. He forgot about the price he had to pay to have her back. He forgot about everything outside of the taste of her lips and the heat of her body. He didn't listen to the voice in his head that tried to tell him he should slow down and enjoy getting to know her outside the limited world of phone calls. He let his body and his instincts rule for once, and it was glorious.


	4. Chapter 4

The late August heat held Washington DC in its sweaty fist. Reid was used to the heat but was also grateful for the shade under the overhang of JJ's porch near Will's barbecue. The smell of meat and vegetables cooking on the grill wafted through the air and made his nose twitch.

"Hey," Morgan approached with two bottles in his hands. "I brought you a beer, kid."

Reid took the icy bottle of beer and drank it down. It tasted fabulous on such a scorching hot day. "Thanks."

Morgan saluted him with the bottle and took a long pull. "You're welcome. Smells great, Will."

JJ's husband nodded. "You can thank JJ. It was her idea."

"Those grilled vegetables look divine," Garcia said as she stepped out of the porch door. "Thanks for making something vegetarian for me."

"Actually," Will said. "The eggplant looks great. Maybe, I'll try a little. The burgers are ready, and the veggies aren't far behind. Everyone should grab their plates."

An hour later, Reid sat back in a chair under the shade of the trees and read to Henry. The little boy was falling into a doze in his lap. Maeve sat next to him and smiled as she listened to the adventures of Winnie the Pooh.

"I think he's out," JJ said.

She took Henry from Reid's lap. " _Oh_ , he's getting to be such a big boy."

"You okay, cher? I can take him up."

"No thanks, babe. I'm okay. I'll be back in a minute.

Hotch and Jack sat near them. The older boy was playing with the cards Reid used in his magic tricks with the boys. Hotch was sipping a beer and staring up at the sky. He looked as relaxed as Reid had ever seen him.

"He is growing," Will said. "Sometimes I can't believe it's been almost five years since he was born."

"Every year, it seems like time goes faster," Rossi said.

Reid glanced over at Maeve. He knew what it felt like to feel that time sped by. He couldn't believe six months had passed since he received a miracle. She reached over and took his hand.

"Dave's right," Alex said. "Summer is coming to an end once again. I'm not looking forward to winter."

"Let's not talk about it," Garcia said. "Let's remember that this is a party. Finally, my sweetcheeks is getting married.

Morgan laughed as Spencer and Maeve both turned bright pink. "You two are _so_ cute," he teased.

"Not funny," Reid complained.

"It kind of is," Garcia said.

"No, it's not," Rossi said. "It's annoying."

"Ah, you gotta loosen up," Alex said.

Rossi shook his head. "I don't understand why Morgan can't just say, "Congratulations, Spencer and Maeve on your coming nuptials."

"Where is the fun in that?" Morgan wanted to know.

Rossi rolled his eyes, then clapped Reid on the back. "I'll say it then. Congratulations to both of you on your engagement."

"Thanks."

"Yes, thank you all," Maeve said. "You've all taken me into your circle and treated me like family. I don't have the words to express my gratitude."

Reid wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulders. "She's right. Thank you."

They were silent as goodwill pervaded the gathering and each thought of the blessings they had in their lives. Morgan broke the positive air by saying, "Well I for one have had enough of the mushiness."

"Is that a word?" Maeve wanted to know, as JJ hurled the core of the apple she'd just finished at his head.

Everyone broke into cheers and laughter as Morgan got to his feet and advanced on JJ. They began to pick sides as she ran from him, and he chased her. She winked at Will as she let Morgan grab her, then she elbowed him in the gut, just enough to get out of his hold. "I can take you anytime, Derek Morgan." She said as she maintained her defensive crouch.

He responded by pulling her into a tight hug and kissing the top of her head. "Alright, blondie, alright. I got it."

She smacked his shoulder with the flat of her hand and winced. "Geez, how do the ladies deal with your pecs of steel."

He wiggled his eyebrows, and the rest of the team groaned. "Knock it off, JJ," Rossi complained. "His head's bigger than a float in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade."

Everyone roared with laughter, including Jack, who'd been rooting for his "Aunt JJ." She shook her hands over her head as the victor and returned to Will. She climbed into his lap, and he kissed her. Jack made a disgusted face and Hotch grinned at them.

Maeve whispered in Reid's ear as he nodded and smiled. "Everyone, Maeve and I have something for you. It's a surprise."

"You already shared your engagement," Rossi said. "One surprise per couple."

Over more laughter, Morgan said with an exaggerated sigh, "You're not pregnant are you," he directed to Maeve with a wink.

"No," she said and flushed scarlet.

"Morgan!" Reid admonished, and he too blushed pink to the roots of his hair.

"Aw, look at the newlyweds," Morgan teased.

"We're not married yet," Reid said.

"No, we're not and as I said before I was so rudely interrupted," Maeve continued.

"Good one," Garcia put in as Morgan glared playfully at her.

"We have a thank you surprise for you."

"You know you don't have to do anything," Hotch said.

"We know, but it's a good one," Reid said excitedly.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense," Alex put in.

"Um, it's in the car," Reid said.

The other groaned. "Seriously," Garcia commented. "All that build up, and it's in the car."

"Yeah, we wanted it to be a surprise. I'll get it."

Maeve stopped him with a hand to his arm. "I can get it, honey."

"No, that's okay. I'll be right back."

He rolled his eyes as he walked back into the house after hearing Morgan say. "Oh, _hoo_ , honey, listen to that, pretty boy."

Leaving them to their laughter felt right. After everything that happened in the last six months, the losing and the regaining of Maeve and Rossi's loss of Erin Strauss, he felt that they all deserved some happiness and some good silly fun.

He crossed the street to where he'd parked the car and went around to the trunk. The box containing his surprise sat inside. He realized that his hands were trembling with excitement as he opened the trunk and started to remove the box. He barely heard anything over the pounding of his heart and so didn't notice the engine of the out of control car, nor feel the edge of the bumper as it struck him from behind. There was a sudden agonizing pain in his head and back, the screech of over-stressed metal and then, only blackness.

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When he opened his eyes, it was to brilliant white light and no sound. He stood alone except for a familiar figure. "Hello," said the little girl from the playground. "I'm sorry to see you here, Spencer."

"Where am I? What happened?"

"I'm afraid you're in that place that lies between death and life."

He shook his head. "I don't understand."

"What is the last thing you remember."

"Pain and darkness."

She took his hand and smiled sorrowfully at him. "You were hit by a car."

He shook his head. "I was getting something from the trunk and –"

She nodded her large eyes full of tears and a wretched unhappiness he couldn't understand. "Yes," she said.

"I'll recover, right. I can't die, not now."

"You can and you will. In fact, part of you _is_ dead. You know what brain death is?"

"Yes," he wanted to shudder, but it seemed like the normal reactions of his body were gone. The realization of this fact frightened him more than knowing the facts of a brain dead diagnosis.

"At this moment Maeve and Hotch are talking to your doctor about disconnecting you from life support. We have little time."

"Time for _what_ ," he spat out. "I'm dead!"

"Not yet," she assured him calmly. The tears in her eyes disappeared. "There is a way for you to go back, to live the life you were meant to live."

"I _am_ living the life I was meant to live." He shouted in a broken tone. "I was meant to love Maeve, and she was taken from me. You're the one that gave me the chance to love her." His voice broke completely, but he found he couldn't cry as he wanted.

"No," she argued quietly. "You were meant for something greater, a love that you can't imagine."

"I don't believe it. I _can't_ believe it. I love Maeve. I'll always love her."

"Yes, you will, but there is someone out there waiting for you that will give you everything you need and want."

"I don't want anyone else." He cried.

"Spencer. You were given the opportunity to change your destiny for a reason. You had a lesson you needed to learn."

"What lesson? I don't understand any of this. I want to go back. Send me back," He shouted. "You have the power."

She didn't flinch away from his fury. She shook her head, and her curls bounced around her shoulders. "I don't have that power, Spencer. This is the price you _must_ pay for Maeve's life. You agreed to it."

"I didn't agree to this, but if my life is the price, then I _will_ pay it."

She sighed and pulled her hand from his fingers. "It's not just your life that's at stake, Spencer. If you die, all the lives you are meant to save are forfeit."

"I don't care," he lied, calmly.

"You don't care about Morgan, about leaving his child without a father."

He closed his eyes. It couldn't be true. "Morgan doesn't have a child."

"He will! There are others, strangers, and family that will die as a result of your death."

"My death was caused by accident." He pointed out.

"Yes, but that accident wasn't meant to result in death. If you hadn't changed your destiny, you wouldn't have been on that street at that time. The man that hit you had a heart attack. He was supposed to hit an empty car, and thereby harm no one. Now, he won't survive the guilt. His destiny is thwarted."

He wanted desperately to release his pain in tears, to feel the churning of guilt in his gut and the sorrow of needless death making his heart race. He could only put his hands over his face. "I don't understand why you gave me this chance if this is the result."

"Look at me, Spencer."

He reluctantly let his hands drop to his sides. "You were given this chance because you needed to learn that you are _worth_ loving."

"I know I am." He said uncertainly. "I've always known, but Maeve…"

"Yes," she agreed. "You never truly believed your right to love outside of your mother and your team. Now, you do believe in it because of Maeve. She taught you that you could be loved."

"So what do I do," he said helplessly.

"You must make another choice."

He stared at her in disbelief. "No! I'm dead, and I'll stay that way. I'm not making another decision that will result in this kind of consequences."

"If you make a choice to return to the night of Maeve's death, there will be no price because your destiny will be restored."

"What about Maeve?"

"It was her destiny to die, Spencer. She fulfilled her life's mission by showing you the value of love and your worthiness to experience the joy you felt with her."

"I don't know if I can go back to that. I can't survive without her."

The girl took his hand again and warmth like stepping into loving home on a winter's day pervaded his body. "You _wil_ l survive, and soon you will meet the one that will give you your true heart's desire."

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was back in his apartment, it was night, and he knew that Maeve was gone. Pain such as he'd never known ripped his heart in two and he sobbed like a child. The memory of his altered destiny and his encounters with the girl on the playground were wiped out as if they never existed. All he could see in his mind was the bullet wound in her head and her precious crimson blood on his hands.


	5. Chapter 5

October 31, 2022

The sun peered between grey-white clouds in the autumn sky. The grass wore its garment of bright fallen leaves like a royal robe. The crisp air made Kayla Reid shiver a little as she stepped out of the house to retrieve the morning paper.

"Mommy, hurry up," cried the voice of her little boy.

She turned and entered the house. They'd just finished carving the first of the Jack-O-Lanterns, and the kids wanted to surprise their dad.

"Alright, little man, you can go wake Daddy."

She grinned as Jason Ethan Reid hurried as fast as his three-year-old legs could take him to the master bedroom. Spencer wouldn't be happy at his early morning call until he remembered that it was his favorite holiday.

Kayla found Emma, short for Jennifer Emily, in the kitchen with her art supplies on the breakfast table. "I thought you wanted to wake daddy," she asked.

Emma shook her head. "No, I'm making a surprise for him."

Kayla pulled a clip from her long, auburn hair and let it fall over her shoulders. She went to the oven and removed Spencer's favorite egg, cheese, potato and bacon casserole from within. "I thought you finished it last night.

Emma shook her head. "No, but now it's done."

Kayla set the baking dish on the cooling rack and removed her oven mitts. "May I see it."

"No, mommy, not yet."

"You better hide it because I'm sure your father will be down at any minute."

"Yes, mommy."

Kayla watched her daughter disappear through the door to the living room and her favorite hiding place. It still amazed her at times that she had two beautiful children and the most intelligent, kind, gentle and fabulously attractive husband on the planet. It didn't seem possible.

She turned back to the feast she was preparing to kick off Halloween. Spencer's love of the holiday had rubbed off on her, and the kids loved it, too. The newest tradition was a holiday feast, and since the day fell on Spencer's day off, she wanted to make the most of it.

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"Daddy," cried a small voice, right next to Spencer's head.

Reid kept his eyes closed and pretended he still slept, when he'd awoken from an extremely refreshing sleep a little more than thirty minutes' prior.

"Daddy, wake up," said little Jason as he climbed on the bed and draped himself over Spencer.

"Hmm," Spencer hummed. "Don't want to wake up."

"Numpkin, Daddy," lisped the boy.

Spencer opened one eye and found Jason looking at him with bright green eyes, his mother's eyes and a grin that made him smile. "It's too early."

"See, numpkin," Jason demanded.

He opened the other eye and said with mock seriousness. "Are you sure it's ready? I don't want to see a pumpkin with half a face. That'd be _too_ scary." He elongated the word scary and reached out a hand to tickle Jason's left side as he moaned like the wind around the corner of the house.

Jason screamed with laughter and writhed out of his father's reach. "Daddy no tickle."

"If you're sure," Reid said as he crawled out of his warm bed and stretched.

The blue and with striped tee shirt he wore over with gray pajama bottoms road up over his stomach and elicited a whistle of appreciation from the doorway. He yanked it down and turned to see his wife standing there looking at him as though he were breakfast. "Don't start," he warned.

"I have no intention of starting _anything_ but breakfast," she stated primly and made him grin. "But, hold that thought for when the kids leave with the rest of the junior BAU."

"You are terrible," he said as he went to her and caught her up in his arms.

"No, I'm just ridiculously in love."

"Do you know what's amazing?" He asked as his eyes worshiped her heart shaped faced with its full mouth; perky upturned nose and lovely green eyes.

"What?"

"I feel the same about you."

He kissed her, and they both laughed when Jason tugged on Reid's pajamas. "Daddy no kissy, see numpkin."

"Alright, Master Jason. Let's go see the pumpkin."

They hurried into the kitchen, where a pumpkin sat proudly on old newspaper with its guts unceremoniously yanked from within. It had round eyes, a triangle nose and jaggedly cut teeth. "Looks great," he said to Kayla.

"It's scary," said Jason, but he didn't look too frightened.

"I'm going to toast the pumpkin seeds with –"

"Sesame-ginger," he interrupted excitedly."

"Yes," she said and rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't forget your favorite, but only half. The other half is a new flavor: Parmesan-garlic-herb."

"Sounds good."

"Mommy, I'm hungry."

"Mommy, eat."

They grinned at each other. "I guess it's time to feed the children," Kayla said. "Let's sit down."

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Spencer tapped on Emma's bedroom door. She turned to face him, and he smiled wide. "Is that your costume?"

She whirled around in the light blue princess dress with white shoes and her golden brown hair in ringlets around her shoulders. She was her father's daughter in every respect. She had his eyes, and she had his brains and gentle manner.

"Yes, daddy. Do you like it?"

"I think you look beautiful."

The five-year-old ran up to him and hugged him tight around his legs. He picked her up and hugged her to his chest. "I love you, Jennifer Emily Reid."

"I love you too, Daddy."

He put her down, and she led him to the small desk she used for school work. Sitting on the top was a collage of her drawings. He continued to be amazed at her artistic talents. He could draw, but she'd inherited his small talent in magnified form. His eyes roamed over her interpretation of their home life, her family, friends and all her aunts and uncles from the BAU. He recognized all of them, but his eyes were puzzled by a figure that appeared in three of the drawings. It was female, had wings and floated above them.

"It's beautiful, Emma," he said. "Is this for me?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"I love it, my Emmy."

She giggled at his little nickname for her, and it was an innocent sound that always reminded him that for all her gifts, she was still a child. She threw her arms around his neck and smacked his cheek with a kiss.

"I love you, daddy."

"I love you to infinity and back," he declared.

"When are we going trick or treating?"

"Aunt Penelope's going to pick you up at 4 pm."

Emma frowned, and Spencer grinned. "While we're waiting, may I ask you a question about your collage?"

She nodded her little head, curls bouncing around her shoulders. "Okay, Daddy."

"Who's the person with the wings?"

"She's an angel, daddy."

"She is?"

"Yes. She takes care of us."

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Emma into his lap. "She's like an invisible friend."

"She's your friend, Daddy. She told me that she used to know you."

A shiver of fear, deeply hidden under his love for his family welled up and sat in his gut like a heavy stone. He kept his face neutral, but couldn't control the slight squeak in his voice when he said.

"She did?"

"Yes. She told me to give you a message. She said to tell you she's happy that you found your true destiny and that Thomas Merton was right when he said we don't find love alone," she recited proudly.

He heaved in a huge breath as chills ran over his spine and tears pricked in his eyes. He breathed in and out to try and keep back his storming emotions.

"What's the matter, daddy? Why are you crying? Maeve is nice; she doesn't want you to be sad."

He hugged Emma tight to his chest. "I know," he said into her shoulder.

"Are you sad, daddy?"

"No, I'm not sad."

He pulled away from her and wiped his eyes. "I'm happy that Maeve is your friend, too.

Emma was frowning. "She said I wouldn't see her anymore. She said she has to go now because she has other people to help."

"I see," he said and cleared his throat. "Why don't we say goodbye to Maeve, but I'll keep the drawing so we'll always know that she is watching over us?"

"Okay, Daddy."

They faced forward and said together, "Goodbye, Maeve."

He felt something, something he hadn't felt in years. It was a warmth that used to make him shiver every time he heard her voice. Then it was gone.

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He sat on the sofa with his arms around Kayla. "And that's all…"

"You're not crazy, and our daughter is not having a breakdown," Kayla assured him.

He let his fingers play in her coppery hair. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I have faith. Whatever our little girl is or will be, it's not mentally ill."

"Maybe she found my book and read the inscription. She's smart enough to put two and two together."

"Even if she did and the angel Maeve is only in her imagination, what harm can it do?"

He sighed. "Nothing, I suppose. It's just weird because I put it all behind me years ago and yet…"

Kayla captured his face in her hands. "I'm not angry with you."

"Kayla."

"I'm not," she assured him. "She is part of your past. She taught you to be open to love. Now, we have each other and two wonderful kids. I'll take that over life without my family."

"Me too," he whispered.

"Now that's settled, and the kids are gone for a couple of hours, why don't we have a little adult fun."

He smirked at her. "I think you're confusing Halloween with Valentines Day."

She grabbed his hand and pulled. "I don't care if it's Arbor Day, Dr. Reid. Take me to bed."

"Yes, ma'am."

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Reid pulled the covers over Emma's sleeping body. He bent to kiss her forehead. "Sleep well, my princess. Have only sweet dreams."

She turned over in her sleep and smiled as if she heard him and obeyed. He shut off the light and grinned at her Tardis night light that glowed in the corner. She was just an innocent child after all. There was no need to worry.

He left the door open just a crack. He didn't see a woman materialize next to Emma's bed. She glowed with a fairy light, and she smiled down at Emma. "Thank you for delivering my message, sweet girl. I'll watch over you from now until forever."

She disappeared, and the house fell into the quiet that reigned over homes with happy lives and two tender-hearted genii.

 _ **THE END**_


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